Arush laughs.
“Do any of those sound like something that might help you?”
He sighs. “I don’t know, but I like the idea of trying them.”
“Okay, good. And if none of them work, we’ll think of other ideas. We’ll figure it out. I need you to know that I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable, but I think we both want this marriage to be a happy one, and that means we need to find a better way to communicate, including—and especially—about the difficult things.”
“I know. Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For trying to think of ways to make it better and not getting upset with me because I can’t just say it.”
I frown. “Whoever made you feel like that in the past needs a hockey stick to the teeth.”
His eyes widen in alarm, and I laugh, despite the situation.
“That was a little violent, I suppose.” Arush gives me a dubious look. I kiss his lips softly. “I mean to say that no one has the right to make you feel that way under any circumstances. You should never be made to feel bad for feeling how you feel.”
There’s a chance he wants to be finished with this conversation. His mouth captures mine and we kiss for a very long time. I’m not upset about it at all.
I metArush’s friends yesterday at our wedding, but there was a lot going on and I was surrounded by strangers, which meant I was channeling some hockey-Julian energy. I needed the mojo and confidence that I pull on when I have to mingle and socialize at charity events and hockey functions, where I know very few people.
The difference being that this day was about me and my husband. They were there for us. A lot of them were family or close friends. It meant hockey-Julian was only the backbone,and in the forefront, I had to work on getting family-Julian to shine through as well.
These people are my new family. They’re important to Arush. They deserve an authentic version of me. Not a personality meant for public consumption.
Throughout the day, I wished my family were here. I promised my mama we’d celebrate when we got home but it felt… like the day was missing something. I knew exactly what was missing. My family. My friends. The day should have all the people important to us together.
We’ve spent this morning with Julian’s family. Ishika was able to come to our wedding for a brief time, but she’s been returned to the hospital while the doctors monitor the function and healing of her internal injuries. We spent an hour with her at the hospital after breakfast.
This afternoon, we’ve been hanging with his friends as they catch up on what Arush has been doing in Chicago. I listen, wrapped around him, as he unloads everything. Our trips, hockey, the newest gossip about the people who share our condo building, my friends, the plans we’ve made for the rest of the summer.
They seem like good people. While I know they try to involve me in their conversation and I think they’re waiting for their chance to truly ask me questions, I’m content listening to Arush talking with them about everything and anything, bouncing from one topic to another. I love the sound of his voice. I love his smile and his laughter. I love to see their friendship and wonder if that’s what it looks like when we’re with my friends.
My phone rings and I glance at the time, doing a quick calculation in my head. It’s nine in the morning back in the States. Business hours.
I kiss Arush’s cheek and excuse myself from their conversation while I answer my agent’s call.
“Hello?”
“Julian. Good morning,” Tanner greets.
I switched to Pride Sports three years ago when it made news that Felton Badcock was suing All-Star Sports for the way they took advantage of him, wrongful termination, and a whole slew of shit. I was still new to the league, but I had a moment of panic when it happened because that’s the agency I was signed with.
During the first year I played with Chicago, a teammate, who is no longer with the team, was going through the same thing with them. Apparently, a mass exodus had started, and he offered to give me the name of the attorney handling the case of athletes looking to terminate their contracts—looking them over for any of the same mistreatment that Felton experienced.
There were definitely some terms in mine that led to a lot of bad publicity for the agency. I was a token ‘person of color’ in their media section, and my involvement with their agency could be used as ‘proof’ that they represent a diverse clientele.
It was more involved than that, but I’d clearly misread and misunderstood the intent behind that section. It wasn’t a statement of inclusivity. It was a statement saying they could use my race in their advertising to promote their diversity campaign.
To say I was furious and sick to my stomach was an understatement. The proceedings I won went to an advocacy for Black equality and I washed my hands of the agency. I’m confident they’re disbanded now, but I have no interest in looking into the details of what became of them.
All that to say, I signed with a new agent at Pride Sports. An up-and-coming professional who was spoken highly of in the industry, even with his lack of experience. So far, I’ve been extremely pleased with Tanner Hughes—a Black agent, something that became very important to me after reading all the crap in my previous contract.
I’ve also had my new contract and every previous contract I’d signed was vetted by a lawyer.
“Morning,” I return.
